Missing Persons
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: Healer Harry Snape discovers a missing child working late at St. Mungos, which leads to him helping some American Aurors try and foil a kidnapping ring that's baffled the Ministry, along with Katie and Severus. AU, Prince Manor mini sequel! Harry/Katie Bell.
1. Chapter 1

**Missing Persons**

**A Prince Manor Tale**

**By Snapegirlkmf**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter, I am only borrowing the characters to play with them. All rights belong to JK Rowling**

**Takes place: a few years after Return to Prince Manor**

**1**

**A Familiar Face**

_St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies:_

Harry Snape, Healer, rubbed his eyes and drank the now cold cup of coffee he had placed on his desk in the on-call room some two hours previous. This was his second night in a row on call, as the youngest Healer on staff, just finishing up his last year of residency, he was given the shifts nobody else wanted. Like the graveyard shift and the crack of dawn shift. It was almost midnight, and he had been on call for almost forty-eight hours, doing rounds and emergencies in the pediatric ward.

Pediatrics was often closely aligned with Spell Damage and Magical Accidents, given how many kids stole their parents' wands or touched forbidden magical objects and ended up cursing themselves or getting injured. Harry had just finished with a patient who had burned half her hair off trying to make her own potion, she was five, and lucky she didn't have worse burns to her head and face when the cauldron had melted and the potion within it exploded, lighting her hair on fire. Harry thought she reminded him a little of Neville Longbottom, who had been forever melting or exploding his cauldron during potions class, only his father, Professor Snape, had always managed to halt the damage before someone got seriously injured.

Harry had dosed the child with a very strong pain killing potion and applied copious amounts of an Extra Strength Burn Salve to her head and also given her some Hair Growth Serum to facilitate the re-growth of her blond hair. She would be fine in a few days, and hopefully remember this experience and learn a lesson from it. Harry also hoped her parents would learn from this as well, and make sure their daughter didn't have access to their lab without supervision again.

He ran a hand through his wavy black hair, inherited from his father, and straightened his green Healer robes, though his did not have the wand and bone symbol of a full Healer on them yet, but a wand only, indicating his resident status. Blinking his green eyes hard, he shook off the fatigue that seemed to drape him like a cloak and headed out into the emergency ward to see what new case had turned up.

"There's a new case for you over in Room 2," said Shanna, a mediwitch. "Just came in. The mother's being seen by Healer Daniels, there was some kind of accident I guess, and she broke out in these green pustules all over her hands and part of her face. Nasty! She had two kids with her, a girl and a boy, and the girl has a bruise on her face and a red mark, sort of like a burn on her arm too." She handed Harry the preliminary chart.

"How old is the child?" he asked.

"Uh, about six," Shanna replied, she was short and round with masses of blond hair and a cheery disposition. "It was strange, but the mother didn't seem to want her kid to get looked at, but Daniels insisted. And when I tried to get the kid's name, she wouldn't talk to me."

"Maybe she's shy," Harry said. "I'll see what I can do." He already felt slightly uneasy about the little Shanna had told him. His years of abuse at the hands of the Dursleys made him wary of a parent who didn't seek medical help for their child and the child's reaction seemed slightly odd.

He headed into the room where the two children had been placed, putting on a comforting look as he entered the exam room. "Hello! My name's Healer Snape, but you can just call me Harry if that's easier for you."

A small girl with curly dark hair and beautiful sky blue eyes sat on the exam table. She was wearing jeans and pink sweatshirt with a white and blue teacup on it and small trainers. The boy beside her looked a year or two younger than she was and had white blond hair and dark eyes. He was wearing ragged shorts and a T-shirt that had seen better days and brown shoes. Harry noticed right off that the little girl had a bruise on one cheek and she was cradling her right arm as if it hurt her.

He frowned. Seeing bruises on a child brought back painful memories of his own childhood at the Dursleys, before he'd been rescued from them when he was fourteen by his true father, Severus Snape. Few knew the truth, but he had been abused by Vernon Dursley, and he still had occasional flashbacks of that horrible time. "Hey, sweetie," he greeted the little girl on the table. "Can you tell me your name? And how you hurt yourself? I see you've hurt your face and your arm, huh?"

The child stared at him with frightened blue eyes, as if he had asked her something terrible. Slowly, she shook her head.

Harry felt his instincts go on red alert. Even a shy child would usually talk to him, children liked him. But he knew well how an abused child reacted, and how you were conditioned to never tell what really happened to you. So he said, casually, "Shy, are you?" Then he turned to her brother. "Can you tell me her name? What's your name?"

"I'm Josh Greenwood," the younger boy replied promptly. "And she's . . . well . . . Mama just calls her pretty girl for now."

Harry frowned. There was something odd going on here. The little boy didn't seem afraid at all. He also didn't seem concerned over his sister, and while Harry knew firsthand how siblings or cousins in the same house could be treated like polar opposites, the two didn't even resemble each other. "Is your sister adopted?" he asked Josh.

"Um . . . sort of. Mama just brought her home one day. But she won't stay long. They never do."

"They?" Harry repeated.

"The other kids. Most of 'em stay a week and then they go someplace else," Josh shrugged.

"I see," Harry said, his uneasiness deepening. He moved over to the little girl and said, "Relax, I just need to do a quick exam. It won't hurt." He waved his wand at her.

The diagnostic spell he'd cast told him that she was healthy, save for a bruised cheek and an arm that had been singed by a Burn Hex. He bit his lip. The girl wasn't old enough for her magic to rouse yet, and if she couldn't do accidental magic, she couldn't have accidentally cast that spell. It had been cast upon her, and that made Harry furious.

He summoned a container of purple Burn Salve to him and said softly, "Hey, I need to put this on your arm. It'll make it feel better."

She looked up at him warily. Then she asked, in a very small voice, "Will it hurt?"

"No. I promise. Will you let me? If you're good, I'll give you a sweet after, okay?"

"'Kay." She bravely held out her arm.

Harry gently smoothed the salve on, noting as he did so that the burn wasn't as bad as he'd feared. It made him angry all over again, thinking that someone, probably the mother, had harmed this tiny precious child. But he knew he had no proof and without it, he could hardly voice his suspicions. He gently wrapped her arm in a clean bandage, using a Sticking charm to hold it in place. "There! All better," he said, and reached into his pocket and pulled out two chocolate frogs from Honeydukes. He always kept some on him, to give to the children after he was done examining them, it made doing so a lot easier.

As he handed the child her sweet, he examined her face. It was then that he realized he had seen her face before. There was something hauntingly familiar about this girl. Harry was sure he didn't know her . . . and yet he did recognize her. Where had he seen that face before? And why wouldn't she tell him who she was? There was something decidedly odd about this whole thing. Something didn't add up.

"Okay. Wait here," he told the children, handing the little boy the second sweet. "I'll be right back." He wanted to check some of the charts on his desk in his small office. And the wall as well, where he'd posted pictures of missing children.

He departed the room, heading over to his cubicle a few doors down. As a Healer in training, he didn't rate a real office yet, but he needed a desk to work from when he entered patient information in charts and read test results. When he arrived, he leafed quickly through the five charts on his desk, none of them were hers, or resembled her in any way. Then he looked at the wall where current posters of missing children were displayed.

Normally there were never very many, wizarding children tended to be kept close by their parents. But in the last eight months to a year, several children had gone missing in the magical community, especially around London and its suburbs. There was talk of a kidnapping ring and whispers of a circle of dark wizards behind it all. Nothing had been proven yet, but rumors still haunted the hallways of the Ministry and the hospital, and all hospital personnel were given posters of the missing children, just in case they happened to stumble across one.

Harry examined the photos carefully.

No. No. Nothing. Then one caught his eye.

It was a recent head shot of a dark-haired little girl smiling into the camera with sparkling blue eyes. Underneath it were the words—**Missing, Presumed Kidnapped! Alyssa Linnea Swanfire, age 6, last seen in London while touring Big Ben with her parents, Neal and Emma Swanfire, on May 25th, 2005. Mr. and Mrs. Swanfire are American wizards, members of America's Dark Hunter division of Magical Law Enforcement. If sighted or any information is known of her whereabouts, please Floo the Auror Department immediately at the Ministry of Magic.**

Harry's mouth dropped open. This was the little girl in the exam room. He was positive of it.

But just to be sure, he ripped the poster down from the wall and hurried back with it.

Then he stood outside the door of the room, where the two children were now eating their sweets, and compared the photo to the little girl on the table.

Minus the bruise on her face, it was the same child.

His heart racing, Harry went to the fireplace and tossed in some Floo Powder. "Auror Department, Kingsley Shacklebolt's office," he called out as the flames turned green.

Then he stuck his head in the magical fire and yelled, "Hey, King! It's Harry Snape. I have something important to tell you."

**A/N: This is a story I had written awhile ago but couldn't post because it was being used as a fundraiser for the Lymphoma/Leukemia Society to help raise money for children with cancer. Hope you all enjoy it! **


	2. Kidnapping Ring

**2**

**Kidnapping Ring**

Things happened rather rapidly after Harry had contacted the Auror Department. In a matter of minutes, Shacklebolt had assembled a squad and brought the mother of Josh Greenwood in for questioning, leaving Harry with the two children. Once she had confessed her guilt with Veritaserum, Wizarding Child Services arrived and took the little boy away to a foster care center. Little Alyssa Swanfire's parents had been contacted and soon Harry was shaking hands with two very grateful parents named Neal and Emma.

Neal was tall and muscular, he reminded Harry a little of his father, because he was dark haired and eyed like Severus, though Neal was much younger, close to thirty, and had shorter hair and a lean handsome face. He was tanned and dressed in jeans and a cable-knit fisherman's ivory sweater and wearing black Reeboks. He had a white feather earring in one ear with a glittering red stone on the end of it.

When he walked into the exam room, Alyssa's whole face lit up and she yelled, "Daddy! You found me!" and sprang right off the table and into Neal's arms.

"You bet I did, princess!" Neal said, hugging the little girl to him, his eyes shimmering with sudden tears.

Following right behind him was a slender woman a little younger than he was, with honey blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes, she was dressed in black pants and a long tunic of teal. She wore a belt with a sword at her side and long black boots. Around her neck was a silver swan pendant, the swan's eye was turquoise, and it held a silver rose in its beak. She flashed a grin at Harry and said, "Hello. You must be Healer Snape, the one who found my little girl. I'm Emma Swanfire, Dark Hunter and liaison to the International Division of Magical Law Enforcement."

Harry shook her hand, thinking that she reminded him a bit of his warrior stepmother, the Seelie former Captain of the Royal Guard, Sarai. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Swanfire. I'm happy I could identify her and get her kidnapper taken into custody. So many of these missing children are never found . . . or found too late."

"You're right," She looked him up and down. "You're a bit young to be a full Healer, Snape. Did you skip a few grades in school, or don't they do that here?"

"Um . . . I'm not actually a full Healer yet. I'm in my last year of residency," Harry explained. "I'll finish that in two months and then I'll get my certification. But I did kind of skip a year, I took advanced courses over the summer, so actually I'm finishing a year early. I'm twenty-four."

"With that face, you could pass for twenty," she remarked. "Bet you hear that a lot."

"Sometimes," he laughed, liking her immediately.

Alyssa quit hugging her dad then and ran over to her mother. "Mommy! I missed you so much!" She held up her arms and Emma picked her up. "That mean lady said I was supposed to call her mom now, only I wouldn't, 'cause that's a lie. _You're_ my only mommy."

"Oh, Alyssa, I'm so glad we found you!" Emma said thickly, blinking her eyes, which were the same shade as her daughter's. Then she saw the bruise on her daughter's face and said sharply, "Did that—that witch give you that, honey?"

"Uh huh. She hit me for not callin' her mommy. And when I tried to run away, she made the ropes burn my arm and said if I said a word she'd hex my tongue out."

"I ought to hex her hands off!" Emma growled.

"Rotten bitch!" Neal swore, his eyes flashing.

"Neal! Watch your mouth," his wife reprimanded.

"Sorry. When I get mad, my mouth just runs away with me," her husband said apologetically.

"Daddy, don't say that word, or else Mommy will wash your mouth out with Ivory," his daughter stated.

"Yeah, Neal," added Emma, snickering.

"You're right, Alyssa, I shouldn't say those words around you," Neal sighed. He turned to Harry. "I want to add my thanks to my wife's. We've been looking for Alyssa ever since she disappeared, but it's difficult to find a missing child in a foreign country. Here we don't have the contacts like we do back home."

"So you're also a . . . member of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Yes. The Dark Hunters are kind of like your Aurors, only we're also trained in hand to hand combat and espionage. Like I tell some of my UnGifted coworkers—uh, you call them Muggles here—Hunters are like magical FBI and Special Forces rolled into one," Neal explained.

"You . . . associate openly with Muggles?" Harry asked, surprised. "Then you don't have a Statute of Secrecy?"

"Um . . . it's different with us Americans," Neal told him. "We associate with certain branches of UnGifted law enforcement to help bring down criminals, and of them we swear certain members to secrecy about our magical powers and that sort of thing. But we're more open about our society over there, and a lot of UnGifted know we exist, though it's classified at the top levels of the government."

"Wow! That's really kind of . . . neat," Harry said. Then he asked, "Uh . . . I was wondering . . . your name, Swanfire . . . it's really unusual . . ."

Neal chuckled. "It's Comanche. Translated from that language, I mean." He touched the feather in his ear. "The swan's my family's spirit animal and we've an affinity for fire magic in my family. I know what you're thinking—I ought to have a name like Charging Buffalo or Bloodsword, right? But a swan's a nasty animal when it wants to be, and it's loyal and fierce when it comes to defending its family. So it fits us. You wouldn't be able to pronounce my last name in Comanche anyhow."

Emma snorted. "Neal, _you_ can't even pronounce it. You don't even speak Comanche, except for a few words and most of them aren't anything you'd want to repeat."

"She's right. My generation grew up speaking English like every other American. Only my father out of the elders still speaks the old tongue, and even he does it rarely now that most of his friends and such are gone to the afterlife," Neal said.

"Are you Comanche too?" Harry asked Emma.

"Nope. I'm part fae, by way of my Irish granny," she replied.

"Really? So am I, by way of my father," Harry exclaimed. He went on to detail the Prince inheritance, and even showed the two wizards the Medallion of Inheritance he wore about his neck.

"Small world, isn't it?" she said.

"Like my father always says—there are no coincidences," Neal quoted. "Everything happens for a reason. He'd tell me that we were meant to meet, or something like that."

"What will you do with the woman you captured?" asked Emma then.

"We'll have a trial and then she'll probably go to Azkaban," Harry said. "That's our prison over here for magical criminals."

"I know. I've heard about it," Neal nodded. "Sort of like Riker's Island Detainment Center over in the US."

"Did you learn whether this was an isolated incident from the woman, or was she part of a ring?" Emma wanted to know.

"Well, from what I know, which isn't too much, they discovered she was part of a ring, but they don't know who they are because the woman never met with them without their faces being covered and their voices muffled," Harry answered.

"So we ought to help track down the rest of them, right, Emma?" her husband queried.

"Sure, but what about Alyssa?"

"I can bring her back stateside and leave her on the rez with my papa," Neal said. "Nobody will ever be able to protect her like he will. You know he's bonded to the land, like most of the old shamans. And he's a veteran of the First Wizard War over here." He looked over at his small daughter. "Hey, Alyssa. How about you and me take a trip over to see Grandpa, okay? You can stay with him for a bit—like a week—while Mommy and Daddy help catch the bad guys that took you from us."

Alyssa looked a bit upset, then she said, "Okay, Daddy. Grandpa and I will go fishing and stuff while you're kicking the bad guys' butts."

"That's my girl," her father said approvingly. "You can even ride Smoke while you're there. I'm sure he misses you, baby."

"Smoke's Neal's gray stallion," Emma explained. "A big Appaloosa, but gentle enough for a kid like Alyssa to ride him. His dad gives her riding lessons every time she's there, since the Comanche used to be incredible horsemen once upon a time."

"So I've heard," said Harry. "Uh . . . I can help you trap those kidnappers if you like. I'd rather enjoy hauling their arses into prison and I know the area. I wasn't always a medical student, you know."

"You're the one they call The-Boy-Who-Lived, right?" Emma clarified. "You took down Voldemort twice, didn't you?"

"Once when I was a baby, and the second time it was because the Queen of the Seelie Court owed me a favor, and held a grudge against Voldy because he'd caused the death of her daughter long ago. But yeah, I know more than just brewing Healing drafts, if that's what you're wondering. I can also do _kin-sa-dor_. Can you, Emma?"

"Yes, I was taught some of that, since I'm part fae," she acknowledged, speaking of the fae martial arts taught only to those with fae blood in them. "Neal knows more conventional styles though."

"Which is what they taught at the Dark Hunter Academy," he said.

Just then a petite dark-haired girl wearing black Potions Mistress robes came into the room. She was a year older than Harry, but she ran up to him and cried, "Harry, I just heard what happened. Merlin, but you were so lucky to have remembered that poster." She kissed him quickly, then realized they had an audience and blushed.

"Emma and Neal, this is my betrothed, Katie Bell, she's a Potions Mistress and works down the in basement concocting new recipes for the hospital," Harry introduced her, smiling.

"How do you do?" said Katie, shaking their hands. Then she smiled at Alyssa. "Hello, sweetie! What a cutie you are! Harry, I want our firstborn to be a girl."

"Uh . . . well . . . I don't know if I can make it happen," he stammered.

"You can. You're a Snape, love, and all of you can make three impossible things happen before breakfast," Katie laughed.

Harry chuckled and said, "We'll see. Right now I'm trying to help the Swanfires catch the rest of the kidnappers."

"Oh? Maybe I could help too . . . by doing some research," Katie suggested.

"Yes, we need someone to gather evidence for us and keep it secret until we tell you it can be revealed. " Neal said.

"I can help!" Katie said eagerly. She looked at Harry. "Does your dad know you're doing this, Harry?"

"Not yet, but I'll tell him tonight," Harry said. "My father was a spy and secret agent during both the First and Second Wizard Wars. He'll want to know what's going on."

"And you're lucky you're not sixteen again, otherwise he'd never let you do this," Katie said, smirking.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm an adult now, Katie, and I make my own decisions. He understands that."

"Uh huh. Sure he does. You're just lucky he still has Toria and Jace at home to provide a distraction," she said, referring to the two youngest Snape siblings, Harry's half-sister and brother.

Emma cocked an eyebrow. "Sounds sort of like your overprotective father, Neal."

"Oh? And we won't mention the way yours was when I first started going out with you, will we?" her husband teased. "He used to wait up on the porch with his wand out, supposedly to make sure no prowlers came around, but it was really so he could hex the half-breed if he got out of line with his baby girl."

Katie started laughing. "Merlin, does that sound like Severus! I could see him doing that with Toria and Nesmay." She grinned at the handsome American Hunter. "Then again, with a handsome guy like you, I can't say I blame him much."

Neal preened slightly at that, and Emma said, "Don't feed his ego, the peacock."

"I'm not a peacock, Em. Women just love me, that's all."

"Yeah, right, Swanfire. They can love you all they want—from a distance. But once they start touching, their fingers are going to come off. And the same goes for you—only something a bit more important will be cut off you, Neal dearie."

"Emma, really!" Neal cried.

Katie and Harry burst out laughing.

Then Katie said, "I like you a lot, Emma." She looked at Harry speculatively. "Better watch it, Snape, and don't let some evil witch paw you."

"_Katie_!" Harry gasped, turning red.

"I'm sorry," Neal apologized, giving Harry a commiserating look. "She's a horrible influence on somebody's girlfriend." Then he ducked as Emma elbowed him in the ribs. "Yo, sunshine, watch the elbows. They're lethal weapons. And you know I'm right."

"Keep talking, Swanfire. Then wait till we get home and see where you end up sleeping," she mock-growled.

"With me, Mommy!" Alyssa spoke up, and all the adults cracked up laughing again.

Soon Harry's shift ended and the two British wizards discussed meeting again down at the Auror Headquarters tomorrow morning, once Neal had returned from bringing Alyssa home via the Floo Network. "They'll probably want me to give a statement anyhow," Harry said. "Umm . . . do you have a place to stay? If not, you can always come to my flat," he offered.

"Thanks, but we're fine in the little house the Aurors put us," Emma said. "While Neal drops Alyssa off with his dad, I can check in on my son, Davy. He's only twenty months and staying with my parents. We decided it wouldn't be good to take him on this . . . vacation and we only took Alyssa. I guess that was a good thing, seeing what happened."

"How did it happen?" asked Katie curiously.

"Tell you tomorrow," Emma replied, yawning. "Right now I'm about to fall over, I haven't slept a whole week since it happened. I've been too busy trying to track down those responsible and give them a taste of this," she patted the sword at her side.

Harry peered at it. "Is that a fae blade?"

"Sure is. An inherited one," the Hunter answered.

"I've seen one like that before. My stepmother, Sarai, has one."

"You're talking about Sarai Valinek, formerly Queen Titania's guard captain?" Emma asked.

"Yes. You've heard of her?"

The Hunter smirked. "Yeah, even over in the wilds of America. The Seelie Court there keeps in touch with their European cousins, and you should know that all realms of Faerie are connected. So we know about Sarai Valinek and her human consort, who's actually part fae himself. And the battle they fought to bring Jarillion of the UnSeelie to justice."

"We can discuss that tomorrow too, if you want," Harry said, concealing a yawn. "Merlin, but I'm ready for bed."

"I think we all are," Neal seconded, nodding at his daughter, who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Harry. Maybe around ten or so in the morning, your time, since it might take me a bit to jump back and forth between places and time zones. But I should be able to get to Standing Rock, talk to my dad and mom, and get Alyssa settled in a few hours, then I'll be back here and we can discuss how to find those miserable . . ._people_ and kick their asses."

Harry and Katie bid goodbye to the Swanfires and then they headed home to Harry's flat, which he shared with Katie, since rent was expensive in London and they'd been engaged for years so it made no sense not to live together, as they would marry as soon as Harry finished his schooling.


	3. Gathering Information

**3**

**Gathering Information**

Harry woke up early the next morning, eager to get started tracking down the kidnappers. First he ate breakfast with Katie, who made him scrambled eggs with chives and Swiss cheese and some bacon and whole grain toast, all of it washed down with a large cup of tea. "I'm going to contact Draco," he told his girlfriend. "He might have some leads on these guys . . . or at least maybe he knows who I ought to talk to, since Lucius used to be a Death Eater."

"Hmm. It's worth a shot, though these guys don't seem in the same league as the Death Eaters," Katie said.

"You mean not as crazy or fanatical?" Harry asked. "Maybe not, but you've heard all the same rumors I have."

"That this latest kidnapping spree is some kind of ploy to bring the dark supporters back into power?" Katie queried.

"Yup. Sacrificial magic at the dark of the moon and all that," Harry nodded. "And while they can never bring Voldemort back after what Titania did to him, they can make a bid to bring their dark worship back into power."

"Harry . . . maybe you shouldn't get too involved in this. I mean, this might go deeper than you know and . . . and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Katie, it's too late. I'm already involved, because I found Alyssa. And any dark supporter knows who I am and what I do. So in order to make myself less of a target, I'm going to get them before they can get to me. Or you. Mum, Dad, and the little kids are safe at Hogwarts, and I'll be sure and warn Draco and Hermione, who should be okay at Malfoy Manor now that they've cleansed it of dark influences. And Nesmay's off in Faerie visiting her grandmother, so they can't touch her either."

"But you're going to talk to Sev, right?" Katie insisted. "Let him know what's been going on?"

"Yes. After I talk to Draco, I'll firecall him," Harry promised. "Right now, though, I need to get dressed. At least I don't need to wear my Healer uniform for the next three days, since I'm off. That'll give me time to help the Swanfires investigate these kidnappers."

"Right. And I can help too, by doing some research into their modus operandi and stuff," Katie said. "I can talk to Tonks, she probably has some files on them, or at least some newspaper clippings I can look at."

"Sounds good to me. And the Hunters should have access to all the reports and files the Aurors do," Harry said. Then he went upstairs to get into some jeans and a long-sleeved rugby shirt, as this June was starting out cool and hadn't yet warmed up.

Harry spoke with Draco first, and learned that Draco had found a few old papers of Lucius' at Malfoy Manor in the Death Eater's desk drawer, detailing a few contacts in the shady underworld of wizarding villains. Harry made a mental note to follow up on a few of those, and see where it took them. Then he firecalled his father. Severus was at Hogwarts still, along with Sarai, who was the co-Defense professor along with Remus, and their younger children were there also.

"Dad! Do you have a minute? I need to talk with you," Harry called.

Severus knelt in front of the fireplace in his office, saying, "Right now, I have my practicum for my NEWT class to give, Harry. If it's something important, I'll call you back after it."

"It is," he told the dark-haired Potions Master. "Okay, I'll be waiting at my flat." Then he withdrew from the fire.

"What did he say?" asked Katie.

"He needs to call me back. He was in the middle of giving a test for his NEWT class."

"Oh. I remember those. I used to sweat buckets before them," Katie recalled.

"You, Bell? You were one of his top students."

"Doesn't matter. I was still nervous," she said. Then she went and firecalled Tonks and asked her for any kind of public records and information on the kidnappers and their victims.

Tonks gave her all the clippings and some of the public files the Aurors had about the kidnappings, when they took place, the victims ages, names, and blood status, though she regretfully informed Katie that she couldn't give her anything else, because she wasn't an Auror. Katie told her that was enough for now, and started to study the information for patterns and possible leads while Harry practiced some Defense techniques and had a small _kin-sa-dor_ routine before Severus called him back within an hour.

Harry explained what had happened last night and how he was going to try and help the Dark Hunters bring the kidnappers to justice.

"That's a noble sentiment, Harry, and typical of your Gryffindor attitude, son, but I want to remind you that you're not a professional here. Those Americans are, so you ought to let them do their jobs and just assist them."

"In other words, don't put myself in danger and watch my backside," Harry translated.

"Right. But if you are going to confront anyone, make sure you let me know beforehand. You can always use some backup, especially in a situation like this, when you don't know exactly what you're dealing with," Severus cautioned. "Will you promise me that, son?"

"All right, Dad. I promise to let you know if we find out anything, along with the Auror Department," Harry agreed. "How's Mum, Toria, and Jace doing?"

"They're good. Toria's been taking a few lessons with me on brewing, and Jace is learning the basics of _kin-sa-dor_ with his mum today. Be careful, Harry. Tell Katie that too. I'll talk to you later," Severus said.

The last sight Harry had of the professor was Severus' worried frown before he withdrew from the green flames and shut down the Network.

Harry and Katie Apparated over to Auror Headquarters in the Ministry of Magic a little after ten o'clock in the morning. They found Emma pacing in front of the fountain with its statue of Harry, Severus, and Merlin standing poised while on the ground a cowled Voldemort cowered. The statue had been made after Voldemort's final defeat during Harry's fourth year, and though both Harry and Severus disliked the publicity the monument engendered for them, they knew the symbolism was important to people, and so didn't protest too much.

"Good morning, Emma," Katie greeted the blond witch.

Emma looked up and gave them a weary smile. "Hey, guys. I'm still waiting for Neal to come back. I'm just hoping he didn't get held up by some stupid technicality or something. International Floo travel's a pain like that, even though we have passes signed by our department giving us access to the Network anytime we want when we're on a case."

"You think there's red tape holding him up?" Harry asked softly.

"Either that or he's having one heck of a conversation with his dad and mom over at Standing Rock," Emma sighed. "Could be, though. His dad would want all the details and probably give him some magical items to use, since he's a collector of them. He's been around a long time, as one of the last great shamans, and he can make you give the shirt off your back if you're not careful."

"He's clever, then?" Harry said.

Emma chuckled. "Clever doesn't begin to describe Shaman Swanfire, kid. He's crafty as hell. You know the old saying—if you make a deal with a demon, better count the cost first? Well, if you make a deal with my father-in-law better count your fingers, toes, and the hairs on your head twice. And then go make sure your firstborn's still in the cradle."

"He steals babies?" Katie gasped.

"Nah. I was kidding about that. But he's like Coyote sometimes, and though his deals are always on the level, you'd better be careful what you wish for, because with him you always get it and sometimes more than you bargained for. But there's nobody I'd rather have at my back, except Neal. He was a top agent for the Hunters back in the day, and he's forgotten more than I'll ever learn. Alyssa will be safe with him and my mother-in-law, Maribelle. She's a Seer, comes from Gypsy descent, and she's probably doing a reading for Neal right now if I know her."

"Then he's not all Comanche?" asked Harry.

"No. He's half. But he was raised on the rez and is considered a full member of his people. Belle too, since she married one and adopted their ways. Same with me. Over there they call me Emma Striking Sword. They're good people, once they were the lords of the plains, and they're still proud of their heritage. Kind of like the Irish."

Suddenly her silver swan pendant began to glow. Emma cupped it in one hand and seemed to be listening. Then she smiled and released it, and the pendant quit glowing. "That was Neal. He told me he was going to be a little late, something about some silly official wanting his credentials, but he should be here soon."

"Your pendant . . . that's how you can talk to him?" asked Katie.

Emma nodded. "This was a gift from him when we were married. Neal's very good with charms and enchantments, especially communication and mind magic. That's his specialty. With this on, he can speak to me in my head, just like he was talking aloud to me. It's linked to his swan feather earring."

Harry whistled. "Looks like your father-in-law isn't the only clever one in the family. I wonder why nobody over here thought of that?"

Emma shrugged. "Most people tend to do what's already been done. It's the same over in the States. But Neal and I have found that innovation has saved our butts a time or two, so we keep doing it."

"Harry's like that too," Katie stated.

"Only with some things," Harry said modestly. "And Katie and my father are the chief inventors of new potions over here."

"I learned from the best," Katie said, flushing a little. "Emma, did you get any new information about the kidnappers?"

"Some, yes, but I want to wait for my husband before we discuss it," the Hunter replied.

About five minutes later, Neal came through one of the Floo Networked fireplaces, wearing a pair of black pants and a lace-up tunic and matching shirt with a dagger and glowing wand crossed on it. He also wore a leather belt with a wand in a sheath and what looked like a pouch as well.

"Sorry I'm late. But there was this official over here manning the Network portals that kept giving me a hard time, the little paper pusher," Neal said, frowning. "He made me contact the home office in New York and confirm my credentials before he'd let me through. Damn people with Napoleon complexes!"

"I'm just glad you weren't delayed even more," Emma said. "What did your papa say when you came there with Lyss?"

"Well, he was kind of expecting me. Mom read her cards last night and so they weren't all that surprised when we showed up," Neal said calmly. "Papa and I talked for awhile and he gave me a few little items that could help us find these scumbags and put them on ice."

"I figured as much. Did he say anything else?" asked his wife.

"Just the usual. Watch our six and if we need backup, call him," Neal replied. "Find out anything new, Emma?"

"Uh, yeah. Is there somewhere we can go to talk in private?"

"This way," Harry said. "Some of my friends are Aurors and they told me to use this room over here if I needed to. It's charmed to be soundproof and spy proof, meaning no one can eavesdrop on us with magic."

He led the way to a medium sized room with a table and several chairs. There was a pitcher of water and some glasses on the table, as well as a plate of shortbreads. Once Harry shut the door and they had all sat down, Emma pulled out a leather satchel and began showing them pictures and documents of all the victims and their suspected kidnappers.

To that, Katie added her own conclusions about the patterns she had seen in the victims chosen and how they were kidnapped. "They seem to be targeting kids of a specific age, between six and four, nothing too young or older. And they seem to be taking an equal amount of boys and girls."

"I noticed that," Harry agreed. "How did they get Alyssa?"

"It was very quick," Neal said. "We were taking one of those tours of Big Ben, you know, the typical guided tourist thing, and as we were climbing the stairs, Alyssa ran a little bit ahead of me. No big deal, I thought, figuring I'd catch up to her in a second. Only when I reached the top, Alyssa was nowhere to be found."

"They'd Apparated away with her before we even knew what was going on," Emma said. "We were frantic, we tried every search and locator spell we knew but they all came up blank. Then we contacted the Aurors here and filled out a missing person report, and that's when we learned that a rash of kidnappings had taken place over here."

"The Aurors have been working on this case for months, but so far all their leads haven't gotten them anything except frustrated," Harry said.

"But maybe now we can change that," Neal said hopefully. "Katie's right with the pattern she saw here. Now let's take a look at this list of suspects."

Together, they perused the list, finding several petty wizarding criminals on it, and one that Harry said he recognized from talking to Draco. "He gave me a list too, and there's one name on it that matches—Kyle Raven. He's the contact that Draco said Lucius used to use when he wanted to acquire something Dark—like a cursed object. He's a fence, knows half the dark wizards in London and has a reputation for dealing quick and hard with illegal dark objects. Aurors have hauled  
him in before, but he's always gotten away on technicalities."

"Or maybe they've let him go so he can lead them to bigger fish," Emma speculated. "We've done that on occasion. Sometimes you have to if you want the really big bosses. Maybe we ought to pay him a visit."

"The best place to start would be Knockturn Alley," Harry said.

"Why don't you three go there while I keep on looking this stuff over?" suggested Katie.

"That's a good idea," Emma agreed. "How do we get there?"

"We can Floo over to the Leaky Cauldron," Harry explained. "That's in Diagon Alley. But I'd better use my Invisibility Cloak if I'm coming with you. Nobody would ever believe I've gone dark if they see me in Knockturn Alley, and they'll be suspicious." He pulled the cloak out of his jacket pocket and put it on, but didn't draw up the hood.

"Yeah, you just let us talk to this guy," Neal said. "We know how to interrogate street trash like this."

Emma gave him a tight smile. "We going with the helpless damsel ploy, Neal?"

"Uh, how about the stupid chick scenario?"

"Yeah. The dumb foreign chick. That'll work," Emma said. "Let's go, Harry."

Harry led them to Knockturn Alley, then pulled up his cloak and vanished from sight. He watched silently as Neal and Emma entered Borgin and Burkes, and spoke quietly with the proprietor for a few moments. Emma showed Mr. Borgin her sword, acting like she wanted to fence it.

Soon Borgin directed them to a back room in his shop, and Harry settled into a corner and waited along with the two American wizards.

Soon the door to the back room opened and a slender man with short spiked blond hair wearing a tattered robe of gray and yellow boots and a worn shirt entered. He had sharp features, and a lean hungry look in his brown eyes. He wore fingerless leather gloves and eyed the newcomers awhile before saying, "So. I hear you've got a hot item for me. Name's Raven. Like the birds in the Tower."

"Well, Mr. Raven, I'm a bit . . . down on mah luck, sugah," Emma began, her voice suddenly syrupy and thick with a Southern accent. She batted her eyes at the fence and smiled. "Mah purse was stolen and I . . . I need some money . . . it's no good being in a furrin country without it, ya know. I hate to do this, but . . . I gotta sell this sword here. It's a family heirloom, right, darlin'? This here's mah good friend, Forrest Gump." She indicated Neal, who wore a vacant expression on his face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss . . .?"

"Scarlett," Emma crooned. "Miss Scarlett O'Hara. I'm from Dixie. That's in . . . uh . . . the Yoo-nited States, sugah." She fluttered her lashes at Raven again. "Would you be able to help lil ol' me out, Mr. Raven?"

Raven gave her a condescending look. Then he eyed her appreciatively. "Well, Miss Scarlet, let's see this sword you have. Normally I don't deal with skirts, you understand, but I'll make an exception in your case."

"Ooh, you're such a gentleman! Here, sugah. Take a look." She unsheathed her sword and placed it upon the table.

The fence examined the sword, and Harry could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he calculated how much he could get for it and how much he could cheat Emma out of it. "Hmm . . . well . . . this is a mighty nice sword, Miss O'Hara. Excellent craftsmanship. It's magical, of course. What would you say to an asking price of . . . two hundred Galleons?"

"Oh . . . I couldn't possibly let it go for more than . . . five hundred Galleons. A girl's gotta eat, y'know."

Raven snorted. "Way too much, girlie. How about . . . two twenty-five?"

Emma blinked. "But, sir! Mah granny gave me that . . . and I couldn't possibly let it go for more than four hundred."

The fence shook his head, his eyes gleaming. "Girlie, four hundred's too rich for my blood. I've got to make a living too. Three seventy-five."

"Maybe . . . you oughta take a look here . . . there's a real ruby in the handle, or whatevah y'all call it," Emma purred.

The fence bent down to examine the hilt of the sword more closely . . . and that was when Emma pulled out a dagger and lunged at him, knocking him back against the wall and holding the knife to his throat. "Surprise, scumbag," she growled.

"What? Who the hell are you, you crazy bint?" snarled Kyle Raven.

"I'd mind my tone if I were you, buddy," drawled Neal, his eyes losing the faint stupid look and becoming hard as obsidian. "It wouldn't take much for her to slit your throat." He palmed a small card and flashed it at the fence. "We're Dark Hunters, Raven. And we want to talk to you."

"I ain't telling you nothin'!" the fence blustered.

Then he gasped as Emma pressed the knife hard against his larynx.

"You might want to reconsider that," Neal said, cool as ice on a hot summer day. "She's been known to slip . . . every so often."

Kyle swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He looked at Emma, who suddenly was transformed from stupid woman wanting to sell a family heirloom to a hard uncompromising law enforcement official. "Uh . . . all right . . . what . . . do you want to know?"

Neal moved then, reaching out and grabbing one of the fence's wrists and tying a blue ribbon around it. The ribbon glowed and Kyle winced. "A lot of things. But I can't be sure you'll tell me the truth, Kyle. Unless you have this on. It's a spelled truth speaking ribbon. With it on, you can only answer me honestly. If you try to lie, you'll choke."

"No! Take it off!"

"Not yet. Now . . . I've heard through the grapevine that you're the one who knows the backways of this place. Have you heard of a ring of kidnappers?"

Raven gulped, and reluctantly nodded. "The—the Night Snatchers, they calls themselves. Been running circles round the bloody Aurors, they have."

"And who leads these—Night Snatchers?" Neal demanded.

"Uh . . . I don't know his real name, but . . . he goes by the Masked One. Cuz nobody's ever seen his face. It's said . . . it's said that's cuz he's the Dark Lord come again."

"Voldemort?" Neal snorted. "And you believe that?"

"You never know. It's said he can't die, even if that brat Harry Potter or whatever he goes by claimed to kill him again."

"And have you met him?"

"Once. He . . . he gave me the creeps. And I . . . don't scare easy . . .get me?"

"This Masked One . . . what else do you know about him?"

"It ain't worth it tellin' you, you bloody foreign Auror!" spat the fence suddenly.

Suddenly Neal moved, and grabbed the slender man by the collar and pressed a thin metal shuriken against the other's throat. "Isn't it, Kyle? You might be afraid the Masked One will find out you spilled your guts, but if you don't talk, mister, your insides will be decorating the table. You ever heard of the Comanche Indians? They were masters at making a prisoner beg for mercy . . . for hours . . . and I'm one of them. You ever seen a person flayed alive? No? You start here . . . with a tiny slit . . ." Neal said, his voice cold and emotionless. He pressed the shuriken into the man's flesh, drawing a single drop of blood.

The fence whimpered.

Neal went on, in the same conversationalist tone, detailing exactly how he could skin the other wizard.

By the time he was done, the dark wizard was trembling. "You . . . you can't do that! I . . . I've got rights!"

"Do you? Only if this were a formal questioning. And nobody even knows we're here, scum. Now . . . why don't you save yourself a world of hurt and just answer my questions?"

The fence caved . . . obviously terrified of the savage Indian "Auror". "All right! I'll tell you whatever you want. Just don't hurt me!"

"Let's make a deal then, Kyle. You tell me everything you know about this group called the Night Snatchers and the Masked One . . . and I won't make a rug out of your hide. Well?"

Kyle began to talk.

Harry pulled out a notebook and began to write down what the fence told Neal and Emma, using a shorthand the Healers often used when they wrote down patients' history for their charts.

After fifteen minutes, the fence squawked, "I . . . don't know nothin' else, I swear by Merlin's ghost!"

Neal tugged the ribbon free and said, "You've kept your end of the deal, man. You can leave . . . but if you breathe a word to anyone about us . . . or speak of us to the walls of your crummy room at night when you think you're alone . . . your skin will start to rot away and peel off . . . and you'll die a horrible death in two days. So . . . I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you, old pal."

"I didn't see you!" babbled the fence. "Not ever!"

"That's right, sugah," drawled Emma. "This was all a dream. Must have been somethin' you ate, huh?"

Kyle Raven took to his heels like Voldemort was breathing down his neck, disappearing out the door before you could say Merlin.

Harry threw off the hood of his cloak. "Wicked! I can't believe you got him to talk like that."

"Works every time," Emma said. "Was that magic ribbon something your papa gave you, Neal?"

"No. That was a spare hair ribbon of Alyssa's that I made light up," Neal smirked. "It was about as magic as an UnGifted's big toe. But Kyle sure thought it was, and that's all that matters."

"You mean you were bluffing there too?" Harry clarified.

Neal nodded, his eyes twinkling.

"Word of advice, kid. Don't ever play poker with him. You'll lose your shirt and everything you own," Emma said. "Nobody can gamble like a Comanche. Or intimidate like one."

"Now let's get back to headquarters. We can discuss our next move there," Neal said.

Emma sheathed her sword and Harry pulled up his cloak and they left the shop as quickly as they had come.


	4. Searching

**4**

**Searching**

Based on the information Neal and Emma had gotten from Kyle, which Harry had written down, they began to compile a new list of possible suspects and where they could be found. Though Knockturn Alley was the known haunt for those who were shady and dealt in dark items and magic best left undisturbed, it was not the only place dark wizards could be found. There were seedy haunts about London's East End and down by the Thames near the docks dirty deals went down also. The Aurors had watched these places, but not with the frequency they had now that ten children of wizarding and Muggleborn families had gone missing in the span of almost eight months. Alyssa was the only child they had ever recovered.

Using a scrying bowl given to him by his mother, Belle, Neal tried to See the missing children's whereabouts, as he had inherited some of the Gift of clairvoyance from her. While he was attempting to remote view, Emma and Harry went out into London and searched for possible points of origin for the kidnapping ring. Katie stayed with Neal at Auror Headquarters, compiling more leads and trying to guess where they might have hidden the children. She reasoned it would have to be close, as on a map they had acquired, all the kidnappings had taken place in a fifty foot radius. Of course, the kidnappers might have hidden the children out of the city, but since London was so sprawling and filled with people and buildings, it would be easier to simply hide them within the city limits.

With that in mind, Emma used a Concealment charm to blend in better with her surroundings, and not tip off anyone whom Kyle might have warned about the Hunters looking for them. The fact that they were being targeted should not have come as any surprise to these criminals, since they had kidnapped a child of law enforcement officers. The fact that Alyssa Swanfire had been rescued did not mean they would go unpunished for their crime either. Whoever had made the decision to take her had made a very big mistake, and now it would cost them. In spades.

Harry followed her, using his cloak to disappear from view and so not betray his own involvement with the case. Only Tonks and Shacklebolt knew that he and Katie were assisting the American Dark Hunters, and that's exactly the way Harry wanted it. Like Severus always said, "Three could keep a secret, but only if two were dead."

Harry discovered that Emma was a talented detective, using all of her senses to track down leads, and she also had the uncanny ability to sense lies. It was a fae trait, and Harry thought it reminded him a great deal of his father, who could always tell when a student was lying to him. Emma used special tracking spells and charms, and they followed them all over London.

Sometimes the charms led them to dead ends. Other times they found themselves creeping through back alleys and deserted stretches of narrow streets, where buildings were run down, decrepit, with shattered windows and crumbling bricks and pavement.

One day they spent the entire day canvassing part of the East End, and Emma talked to some locals, asking them if they'd seen anything different in their neighborhood lately. She showed them photos they'd made up of their suspects, asking if anyone had seen someone like them.

Some people were glad to help, others suspicious, but most of her questioning was met with head shakes and negative answers.

When, at the end of two days, they hadn't gained any new leads or information, Harry started to get discouraged. "Maybe we're doing something wrong," he sighed as they all ate lunch at a small café close to the Ministry.

"No, kid. We're following up on everything we've got," Neal disagreed. "Sometimes investigations are like this. A lot of dead ends and nothing biting. It's not like all the cop shows you see on TV. Even for us magical cops. Sometimes the damn suspects are really good at hiding their tracks. And from what I know of these people, they aren't amateurs. Whoever leads them knows what he's doing. Every time I scry for one of those kids, something—or someone—blocks my magic. And I'm not a novice Seer, I was taught by my mom, and she's one of the strongest clairvoyants in America. She's helped the Hunters solve dozens of cases and she taught me everything she knows. Whoever this Masked One has on his payroll is very good, and knows about the Sight. Maybe he has a clairvoyant on staff, or he's a washout from your Auror Academy. Sometimes the worst criminals are those who used to be law abiding officials."

"You can say that again," Emma nodded, eating her ham and Swiss on rye. "One of the worst cases we ever worked on involved a rogue Hunter and his gang. That guy was slicker than grease on a hot griddle, and it took us a year to get him, and when we did, he took two of our friends down with him."

"You mean he hurt them?" Katie clarified.

"No. I mean he killed them," Emma said darkly. "Two of our finest, and he was killed in the firefight too, but it didn't erase the fact that he killed Masterson and Duke. They were Academy buddies of ours, good friends."

"Yeah, that sucked," Neal said, crunching some chips with salt and vinegar and eating a hamburger. "And Emma was injured too. The bastard cast a Venom Curse and poisoned her. Luckily I had an antidote ring given to me by my father, I used it and it saved her life. But the ring couldn't save Masterson and Duke from being roasted by that scum's Final Strike." He was referring to something that all wizards could choose to do if they knew they were in a hopeless situation and likely to die—they could release all of their magic in one last ditch effort, which would kill them and anyone near them, sort of like a suicide bomber.

"That's horrible!" Katie gasped, her eyes shimmering with sympathy. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, so were we," Neal sighed heavily. "But those are the risks when you're a Hunter, and we all know them when we sign on."

"That scum Traivel knew it too," said Emma. "And he wanted company in the afterlife." She drank her soda, frowning. "That's why we're being extra careful here. We don't want you or Katie to get hurt, Harry. We have time to discover just how these perps operate, and we will eventually find them . . . no matter what it takes. You just have to have patience."

"And sometimes it's hard, especially when you think you've found something and it turns out to be nothing," Neal said.

"I've always been too impatient," said Harry ruefully. "It's one of my worst faults."

"He's right," Katie acknowledged. "But I still love you, Snape. Maybe you'll learn patience by the time you're old and gray."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're a riot, Katie. I'm a lot better than I was when I was in school, though."

"Uh huh. I guess something Severus taught you finally sank in," Katie said, her eyes twinkling.

"Well, usually I learn after having things beat into my stubborn hide several times," chuckled the Healer.

"Sounds like someone else I know," Emma remarked, giving her husband a significant glance.

"You be quiet," Neal ordered. "You don't have much room to point fingers, considering the way you used to rush off without waiting for backup when you first graduated from school, Emma, dearie."

"I never said I was perfect, Swanfire. Like your papa said once—if you live long enough you learn better or you die a stupid ass quickly."

Neal started laughing. "And I can't even count how many times I was on the receiving end of _that_ lecture. Both as a kid and as a new recruit."

"So you're in good company, Snape," Emma grinned. Then she looked at her husband. "Want to split a sundae with me, Neal?"

"Sure, Miss Scarlett," he drawled, chuckling. "God, I almost died laughing when you told Kyle that was your name, honey. And I was Forrest Gump."

"Who are they?" asked Katie.

"You mean you've never seen those movies?" exclaimed the Hunter. "We ought to rent them when we finish this case. Then you'll understand how hilarious it is that Emma used those aliases."

"That'd be fun," Emma said. "How about this turtle chocolate sundae, Neal, darling'?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me, sunshine. You know me, I eat almost anything."

"Except bugs. Once I dared him to eat a spider," his wife said gleefully.

"When we were ten," Neal clarified. "And I dared you to eat a lamb fry, so we were even, because both of us couldn't do it."

"Sounds like you were as crazy as Harry and his brother Draco," Katie snickered.

"Draco was nuttier than I was," Harry objected.

"Sure he was, love," Katie smirked. "Next time I'm at Prince Manor, I'll ask Severus his opinion and see what he says."

"You do that, Bell," Harry said, then finished his hamburger and ordered his own sundae with peanut butter strawberry ice cream. He definitely needed some sugar after the day he'd had. And he prayed they found something before he had to go back to work in two days.

About midday on the third day, they finally found something. Harry and Emma came back to Harry's flat, where they had decided to move their base of operations, because some of the Ministry officials were giving Harry weird looks for being over there a lot, after a discouraging morning, and found Neal and Katie were actually smiling.

"Find anything?" he asked his wife.

"Not a thing," she scowled. "All my leads went nowhere. Again."

"Well . . . we've got a surprise for you," Neal said, looking rather like a raven who had discovered a treasure trove. "Katie suggested I try and See the buildings on Cheapside, so that's what I viewed this morning. At first there was that same spell, concealing and masking everything. But then . . . something must have jogged the clever guy's concentration, because all of a sudden I could See inside one of those abandoned warehouses . . . and I Saw the room where they kept the children . . . and some of the kids too. They're alive, filthy and all, but those I saw are okay. For now. But I got a distinct sense that something big's going to happen very soon. And they won't be."

"Based on that, since I know better than to ignore a Seer's intuition, especially a real one's," Katie continued, "I cross referenced the location with the calendar and learned there was going to be a new moon two nights from now. We all know what the new moon is to dark wizards—one of the unholy nights—when they practice ritual magic, so we've got to move fast and get those kids away from there."

"Finally!" Harry exclaimed. "I was beginning to think they were ghosts."

"Did you See anything else, Neal?"

"A few blurred images of adults, but nothing I could pin down," the Comanche Hunter said, frustrated. "But at least we know where they are now."

"Right. Let's go pay this place a visit and see what they've got over there," Emma said. "Then we can figure out how to get past their protections and crash the party."

Her husband rose and turned to Katie. "I couldn't have done it without you, Katie. Now you two just sit tight till we come back. Depending on what we find over there, we'll inform the Aurors about it."

Harry was about to ask to come along, but then the two Apparated away, leaving him with his girlfriend. He went over and hugged her, saying, "You're such a brilliant witch, Katherine Bell. I'm so glad I'm marrying you."

"Me too," she murmured back, kissing him. "Now don't do anything stupid before the wedding, Snape. Like get yourself killed."

"I won't," he grinned, and kissed her back.

The Swanfires returned after about forty minutes of scouting out the kidnappers' base of operations. They were pretty grim, if happy to have found where the dark wizards laired.

"They've got class A protections over the place," Emma told them. "Whoever they've got layering the protective spells is good."

"Then you can't get in?" Harry asked, dismayed.

"Oh, I can. It'd take me a while, like a few hours, but I can do it," Emma said. "That's one of my skills, taking down wards. But that's not the only thing. When you tamper with another's ward, no matter how subtle you are, there's always a warning for the caster. They'll know something's trying to get in, and once they do, they'll probably move and there goes our opportunity to get those kids out of there."

"And we can't risk that," Neal said. "Because that's really our priority. Not just kicking those scumbags' asses, but getting those kids away from them safely."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Katie, concerned.

Neal spread his hands. "There's really only one thing we _can_ do. We've got to infiltrate them. And that won't be easy, considering that they're probably on high alert right now. They'll be suspicious of anyone trying to join their little organization, but we have to try it. Time's running out."

"And I won't stand for little kid sacrifices on my watch," Emma said, her eyes going icy. "But this will be tough. Neal and I figured we ought to tell the head of the Aurors about it, and maybe they can come up with something that might work."

"You should tell Kingsley," Harry agreed. "But . . . I just thought of something. You know I'm famous, right? It's not something I enjoy, believe me. But sometimes it comes in handy."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Harry?"

"That any dark wizard would sell his soul to get his hands on me."

Katie stared at him in horror. "Harry, no! You can't!"

Harry looked over at her, then said gently, "Katie, it's the only way. I'll be your prisoner, Emma. We can concoct a story as to how you got to me, hell, it won't be too hard. You could just lie in wait for me at the hospital or something, everyone knows what I do for a living. And I'll be the bait that gets you in the door. I can give you my wand, Neal, and nobody will question you. I won't be totally helpless, either, since I can do wandless magic now."

"Harry, that's crazy!" Katie yelped.

"It's just crazy enough that it might work," Neal said thoughtfully.

"I agree. But have you done this before?" Emma asked.

"Sort of. I was Jarillion's apprentice/slave back when I was fourteen, me, Draco, and my adopted sister Nesmay, who's Titania's granddaughter. So I know more or less what happens . . . but it won't be like that this time. This time is different. We can do this. But you need me as bait."

"I don't like it," Katie said. "It's too dangerous."

"So's leaving those kids in there," Harry argued. "And if Neal and Emma can't get in there to rescue them, they'll die. You know what happens at the dark of the moon—blood ritual sacrifice. I could never permit that to happen. Not ever."

"Merlin, Harry!" Katie groaned.

"You're sure you want to do this, Snape?" Emma asked. "I don't like involving civilians any more than we already have."

"I'm sure. Without me, it'll fail. And innocent children will die."

Emma and Neal walked over into the small living room and talked quietly for several moments. Finally they came back into the kitchenette, where Katie was making tea, looking upset.

"All right. You've got us over a barrel, kid," Neal sighed. "You're right. Without you as bait, there's not a chance in hell those Night Snatchers would ever let us near them. I don't like it, not at all, but sometimes you have to do a lot of things you don't like in this business."

"King won't like it either," Katie said.

"It's not up to him. It's up to me," Harry said decisively. He looked at the two Dark Hunters. "All right. How shall we play this?"


	5. Prisoner

**5**

**Prisoner**

_Cheapside, London_

_The lair of the Night Snatchers:_

Mort Krewel was lounging in a chair near the hidden entrance to the Night Snatcher's new base when there came a sharp staccato knock on the wall, a pause, and then four more knocks. It was their signal to open up, and Mort heaved himself to his feet, he was a heavyset man with lank blond hair and a beard dressed in dark brown robes, and went to open the door. "Awright, keep yer shorts on!" he growled and yanked open the door, which was spelled so you could see it from the inside only.

On the threshold was the fence, Kyle, accompanied by three others. Two he didn't recognize, they were strangers, and one he did, and almost swallowed his tongue in shock. "Bloomin' hells, Kyle! Ye've gots Harry Bloody Snape, ye does!"

"Shut it, Mort and let us in!" the fence ordered. "Quick now!"

They passed into the old abandoned warehouse and Mort shut the door. He stared at Harry, who glared at him sullenly. "How'd ye do it?"

"I didn't," the fence replied. "These two did." He indicated the two strangers.

One was a woman, with hair like ink and a pinched in face and watery gray eyes, wearing an old patched pair of jeans, worn cracked boots, and a lace-up shirt that allowed a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage. She had a rusty knife in a sheath about her waist. Her hair was long and stringy and she gave Mort an appraising glance. "'Lo. Name's Esmerelda, like the Gypsy witch."

"You ain't from around here, sister," Mort grunted.

"No, we're not," replied her companion. He was tall and lanky, like a stretched out scarecrow, with a prominent Adam's apple and a lean hungry look on his face, which was covered by a week's growth of stubble and he had a shock of red hair that stood up as if he'd been electrocuted. He wore a bone earring in one ear and was dressed in shabby canvas pants and a dirty torn shirt of a nondescript gray color, with a leather vest over it. The vest had large pockets. The tip of a wand poked out from one of them. "We're from somewhere else. You don't need to know where."

"Who're you?"

"Loki. Like the Norse god of magic and mischief," he replied calmly, his blue eyes glinting.

"That ain't your real name." Mort scowled.

"Anymore than yours is Death," replied Loki coldly.

"I've got be going," Kyle interrupted. "Places to see, things to do. See ya." He quickly left.

"How'd you catch little Snape here?" Mort wanted to know.

Loki shrugged. "Easy. Nabbed him just as he was going into St. Mungos. Stunned him, slapped some Bracers of Nullification on him and then we brought him to Raven. He led us to you, said you might be interested in making a deal with us."

"Maybe. That's up to the boss," Mort said. "This way."

Loki nudged Harry, who snarled, "Leave off, you git! You really don't think you can get away with this, do you? Once they realize I'm missing, people will start looking."

"They'll never find you here," Mort said dismissively. "The boss has got this place warded tighter than the Queen's arse. So if you think daddy's coming to rescue you, Snape, think again."

Harry contented himself with glowering at the bigger man, and it was not just a pretense. He was irritated because all of these goons seemed to think he needed his father to rescue him, when he could take care of himself just fine. Indeed, he would show them that when it was time.

As Mort stomped ahead of them, leading them through one large open space to what could have been a set of offices, Harry slanted a glance up at Loki and Esmerelda.

Loki gave a slight nod and Harry heard Neal's voice in his head. _You're doing great, Harry. Keep that attitude and just wait on my signal._

Harry rubbed the false bracers, they were Glamoured so any wizard would think they nullified his magic, but in reality they were nothing more than cheap tin handcuffs got at a Muggle toy store. They concealed a small blue ribbon about his wrist, however, that was enchanted by Neal so he could communicate with Harry like he did with Emma.

Mort soon arrived at an office and called, "Hey, Masked One, I've got some people here to see ya. And they've brought a surprise. You're gonna love it."

A cold, slightly nasal voice hissed, "This had better be good, you lamebrained son of a goat!"

Harry frowned upon hearing it. That voice . . . it sounded almost familiar. But he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before.

Then the Masked One came out of the office. He was about average height, wearing the charcoal gray robes that Harry recalled from the graveyard with the Death Eaters in his fourth year. His face was masked by a black skullcap type hood, so only his piercing blue eyes showed through the eyeholes. He had his wand, which had a skull on the handle, in his left hand.

Harry was sure he'd not seen that wand before, which meant this person was not one of the original Death Eaters that had pledged their services to Voldemort. Those he would have recognized.

When the Masked One saw who was in the corridor at first, he stiffened and snarled at Mort, "Who the hell are they? I don't know them, why are they here?"

"We've come to join you," Esmerelda said smoothly. "We've heard you're a follower of the old dark ways and we'd like to be a part of that again. So we brought you a gift—the one you call Harry Snape." She gestured to the bound Harry, like a performer unveiling a precious object.

The Masked One stared at Harry, and for a moment said nothing. Finally he spoke. "How did you manage that? Who _are_ you? You're not from here."

"We're from a lot of different places," Loki replied. "We've had to move around a lot, since those in authority don't really care for us. I'm known as Loki and this is my sister Esmerelda."

"The god of chaos and a Gypsy whore!" chuckled the Masked One. "Huh. I almost like you already. Especially because of _him_." He leered at Harry. "So, baby Snape, how's it feel to be a prisoner? And this time we'll finish you off before your professor daddy can get to you, like he did last time. You'll be the major sacrifice at the ritual we've got coming up. Merlin's bones, but I'm going to love slitting your throat and watching all your savior's blood running down the altar and giving me power."

Harry spat at him. "You wish, you bloody arse-licking coward!"

The Masked One snarled and slammed his fist in Harry's face, knocking him backwards. Then he cast a mild Cruciatus on him, making Harry gasp and whimper and cringe on the floor.

"Mind yourself, you're not the Golden Boy anymore, Potter!" the Masked One growled. "I need you in good condition for the ritual, but that doesn't mean that I can't make you beg and heal you up before it. Got me?" He put his wand under Harry's chin, his eyes gleaming coldly.

Harry glared right into those viper-like eyes. "You're as petty and stupid as your former master. Torture me all you want, it'll gain you nothing."

"Think so?" sneered the other.

"I know so," Harry said, with more confidence than he felt. "What've you done with the children, you heartless beast?"

The Masked One laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know, little Snape? You'll see . . . just before I cut your throat at the ritual."

Harry sneered at him. "Maybe you're just full of it. I don't think you have them, you just want me to think so."

The Masked One drew himself up. "You calling me a liar, you pathetic professor's bastard?"

"You did that yourself," Harry replied cheekily. He knew he was playing with fire, but he wanted to see the children himself, and he knew one of the weak points of any villain was their monstrous ego.

The Masked One slapped the Healer across the face, snapping his head back and drawing a slight trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Watch it, Snape! Before I break all your bones and make you heal yourself." He was furious that Harry didn't seem to think he was anything special, didn't fear him like they had all feared Lord Voldemort. "You think I'm bluffing, huh?" He reached over and grabbed Harry by the collar and pulled him down the hallway to another door.

"Mort! Open it!" he ordered.

Mort pointed his wand and intoned an Unlocking Charm.

The Masked One pushed open the door and strode inside, dragging Harry after him.

The room was a medium sized one, with gray slate walls and a single light up in the ceiling. Scattered across the floor were several dirty mattresses and about a dozen ratty blankets. Crouched upon them were ten children, from ages four to six, five boys and five girls, all dressed in striped pants and shirts, like they were prisoners from a concentration camp. They all cringed and some started to whimper and cry when they saw the Masked One.

"Shut up, brats!" he growled. "Before I take a stick to you and give you something to cry about!"

They stilled, clearly terrified the man would make good on his threat.

"That must really make you feel like a big man, picking on little kids," Harry spat, his temper getting the better of him. He wished he could hex this bastard to hell, but he knew it was too soon yet. He had to bide his time. But oh, how he longed to smash the other wizard's teeth down his throat.

"Shut up! Before I Crucio you!" the Masked One growled. "Now you see that I wasn't bluffing."

Before Harry could say anything else, the Masked One withdrew and slammed the door shut. "Lock it, Mort!"

Mort did so, and the Masked One turned to Loki and Esmerelda and said, "You've bought yourselves a spot on my team with this little gift. I've been longing to get my hands on a Snape for years. Filthy traitors! They betrayed the Dark Lord, pretended they were loyal and all the time they were working for the Light."

"I never pretended anything," Harry objected. "My father was the spy."

"Yeah, it's too bad I didn't have him here. But you'll do, Boy-Who-Lived!" the Masked One coughed. "Only you won't be living too much longer." He laughed hollowly. The others joined in. Then the Masked One half-dragged Harry into a room bare of furnishings, save for a bucket and a grungy pallet. "This'll be your home for the last two days of your life, Snapey. It ain't Buckingham Palace, but who cares, right?"

He shoved Harry hard, and the Healer went sprawling onto the floor.

Then he withdrew, closing the door and locking it with a Locking Charm.

Harry sprang to his feet, not minded to grovel on the floor.

_Kid, I'm sorry that he hurt you. Damn sadistic bastard,_ Neal sent into his head via the ribbon. _You okay?_

_Fine. I've had worse, trust me. How long before you make your move and get the kids away?_

_We have to wait a little. Can't do anything yet, he has to let his guard down. So for now we wait. And pray too._

_I was afraid you'd say that. All right, Neal. Good luck cozying up to the Masked Wonder._

_Gee, thanks! He's already making me want to break every bone in his body and feed him to sharks._

Harry sighed and went and sat down crosslegged on the floor. There was nothing to do now but wait, as Neal had said.

He used some of his magic to heal himself a bit from the Cruciatus Curse, enough so he wasn't aching so badly and his nerves didn't feel like they were totally screaming at him.

Then he thought back to how Neal and Emma had disguised themselves back at his flat. The two Hunters had used a Mirror of Disguising, a small handheld silver scroll mirror like those ladies used back in the nineteenth century. It was something given to Neal by his shaman father, and a mirror like that could place a foolproof illusion on the ones who looked in it and imagined a new face for themselves. The disguise the mirror provided couldn't be detected by ordinary magical spells, and it would last for forty-eight hours, or until the wearer dispelled it. It was a very clever magical item, and Harry could see plenty of uses for it, especially for Auror agents like Severus had been.

Katie was their backup, having agreed to stay behind and contact the Aurors when Neal and Emma told her to. They didn't want the other wizards coming in too soon, and ruining the setup, and risking the Night Snatchers hurting the children prematurely or moving them to a different location. She had also agreed to tell Severus where Harry was . . . but only if it looked like he was in danger.

Harry knew she wasn't pleased with that, but he had insisted. He didn't want Severus worrying over him, or risking his own life either. His little brother and sister didn't need to grow up without a father for the rest of their lives. And Harry had no intention of dying there, or being anyone's sacrificial goat.

He sighed heavily, recalling the frightened expressions upon the faces of the children. He had caught just a glimpse of them, but the terror in their big eyes and the pitiful expressions on their little faces haunted him. He had to free them. They reminded him too much of himself, who had been just as terrified of his Uncle Vernon. He had vowed long ago to never let other children suffer through what he had, not if he could prevent it. And this Masked One planned much worse for them.

But Harry would make sure he didn't succeed. He wasn't considered the savior of the wizarding world for nothing. And he would kick this Masked One's ass when the time came, and show him that nobody messed with a Snape, even one who was a Healer.

Then Harry began to meditate, and after about ten minutes, rose and began some shadow routines of _kin-sa-dor_, the fae martial arts he'd learned long ago from his father. The session relaxed him, and gave him hope that they might actually succeed in this crazy venture. As he shadow boxed and kicked, moving about the room like a swift-footed leopard, he imagined the shock on the Masked One's face when he disrupted their precious ritual and showed those wanna-be Death Eaters that their cult was dead and nothing they did would bring it back. Not so long as he drew breath.


	6. Ritual

**6**

**Ritual**

Harry was in the middle of another set of meditative _kin-sa-dor_ routines when they came for him again. He looked up calmly when the three dark wizards entered his cell, wands out. _Three, huh? They must have started taking me somewhat seriously,_ he thought.

"Get up, Snape," ordered a medium-sized young man with a goatee and scraggly blond hair. "The boss says its time."

Harry rose to his feet, feeling his muscles snap and unwind. He was almost on battle alert status, keeping himself from the edge by the slimmest of margins. Those fools before him didn't realize that though. All they saw was a student Healer. They had forgotten that he had fought Voldemort and his goons when he was only fourteen, as well as a master of the dark path after that one had been defeated. They had forgotten the warrior that lived inside the Healer. But very soon now, he would remind them of that little fact.

"Where is he? Your boss?" he asked.

"You'll see soon enough," grunted goatee man. "Now shut up and come along nice. Or we'll Body Bind you and float you along. Either way you'll be at the ritual."

The others laughed and surrounded Harry, and they walked out of the room and down the hallway to the entrance of the warehouse.

They crossed the threshold and suddenly all three dark wizards grabbed him and then he was Apparated away to an open stretch of ground, a hillock where the new moon shone down from a star-studded sky.

Huddled together were the children Harry had seen before, pale as ghosts and shivering in their thin striped garments, like refugees from a concentration camp, he thought angrily. They stood off to one side of a large stone slab, a crude altar, which was draped with a black velvet curtain and had four black candles burning at either corner. Harry felt as if he'd walked onto the set of a bad horror flick.

In front of the altar stood the Masked One, holding a sharp knife in one hand. The knife, Harry noted, was etched with runic symbols. Harry couldn't read all of them, for it was dark in the clearing, but he read enough to know they were runes of life stealing and soul trapping—the standard dark runes on such a ritual object. His lip curled in disgust.

He cupped a hand over one of his cuffs. _Neal? You there, buddy?_

_Here, Harry. Look to the left. Em and me are part of this circle of goons standing in a half circle beside the Masked Retard._

Harry glanced at the half circle of dark wizards, and saw to his relief, Loki and Esmerelda standing there along with ten others. Together with the three escorting Harry and the Masked One, that made fourteen dark wizards. Not so great odds, he thought.

_When do we strike?_ he asked the Hunter silently.

_Not yet. We need to get them good and distracted first. Emma will go for the children and get them to safety, while we fight these scum. I've also arranged for a few of your Aurors to come in when I give them a heads up, so we won't be too badly outnumbered. I hope._

_Even if we are, I don't give a damn. These guys are toast, Neal. I can take four easily._

_So can I, _Neal answered. _Okay, kid. You'll know when the time's right. Wait for it._

Harry made his heart quit racing by taking deep breaths, willing himself into that eerie state of calm a _kin-sa-dor_ practitioner slipped into just before battle. It was a heightened state of awareness that allowed one to notice details of their opponents, like ways of moving and reacting, things that would prove invaluable in a fight.

The Masked One held out his arms, like a preacher greeting his flock. "Brethren! I greet you in the name of Darkness! Once we were unchallenged in the wizarding world. Under the aegis of the Dark Lord, we were feared, not hunted down to be locked in Azkaban. Many of you here remember those days, when ordinary wizards trembled and hid in fear, and our name was a death sentence. Power was ours then for the taking. And with this ancient ritual, it shall be again!"

The half circle of dark practitioners cheered. Some of the children began sniffling and crying, then hushed when one of Harry's escort glared at them.

The Masked One continued. "We have gathered here to bring back the worship of our Dark Lord, Voldemort! It is said he did not die in the graveyard when that miserable traitor Professor Snape betrayed him, but that he still lives somewhere. If that is the case, we shall fight on in his name, and with this ritual, gain power beyond imagining! The stars are aligned, the new moon shines down on our endeavors, and we are poised on the cusp of greatness!"

Harry yawned. Really, did _all_ villains have to give speeches before they did anything? How come they couldn't quit patting themselves on the back long enough to just _do_ something? But again, he felt that nagging feeling that he knew who the Masked One was. It had to be someone he'd gone to Hogwarts with, because only another student would refer to his father as Professor Snape. That mode of address was ingrained in them, especially where it concerned Hogwarts Potions Master.

He quickly ran through a list of possible students in his head, and it wasn't only Slytherins that he was thinking about. Members from the other three Houses could also be candidates, as Harry well knew, dark wizardry wasn't just confined to the House of Serpents. Gryffindors and Slytherins had attacked him and Draco at the start of fourth year.

In the ring of dark followers, Neal touched his feather earring, which was disguised as a simple stud, and silently sent a message to the Auror team back at headquarters to be ready to come to their aid when he called. He shot a glance at Emma, who gave a short nod in return. Tension coiled in the two Hunter's muscles as they waited for the buffoon in front of the altar to quit his speechifying.

The Masked One concluded, saying, "And now we have the means to make our dreams a reality, brethren! For here before us is Harry Snape, the supposed savior of the wizard world! But his fame and fortune won't be enough to save him now!" the Masked One laughed. "For I intend to use his blood and magic to fuel my dark ritual and gain power unimagined." He gestured with the dagger in his hand. "Bring him before the altar!"

The two dark wizards on either side of Harry grabbed him by the arms and marched him to altar.

"Kneel, Snape," ordered the Masked One.

"Stick it up your ass," Harry snarled, and spat right in the Masked One's face.

The Masked One snarled and pointed his wand at Harry. "_Imperio!"_

Harry felt the familiar coercion of the Unforgivable Imperius Curse flow over him, but like the first time he'd had the curse cast at him as a student, the Imperius did not affect him the way it did almost any other wizard. He was not put under the command of the Masked One, his mind remained his own, and he fought off the spell in two eyeblinks. Part of that was due to his own force of will, his indomitable sense of self, and the other was due to his fae heritage, which gave him an increased resistance to spells of command.

But to fool his adversary, Harry pretended to be under the curse, and knelt at the Masked One's feet, silently gritting his teeth, for it went against his pride to bow down to anyone, but especially this posturing idiot.

"Good! Now, let us see what little Snape here is made of!" cackled the Masked One.

And suddenly Harry recalled where he'd heard that laugh before. He knew the Masked One's identity.

"In the name of the Dark Lord, I call upon the spirits of the netherworld to witness my triumph!" chanted the Masked One.

He raised the dagger and bent over Harry, grabbing the other by the hair and yanking his head back to expose his throat.

_Now, Harry!_ Neal yelled, and he turned upon the nearest dark wizard and slammed him in the face, breaking his jaw and his nose with a simple kung fu move.

Beside him, Emma was already springing into action, Apparating halfway across the clearing and dropping the dark wizard who stood in front of the group of children with one well-timed strike to the back of the neck. As he fell, she called upon her own innate Talent, and summoned a Gate, which led to Auror headquarters.

Once the glowing portal had formed, she dropped her disguise, becoming the blond Hunter again, wielding the now glowing fae sword. "Kids!" she called. "Listen up! Line up and go through the glowing door! It'll take you to a safe place. Quickly now!"

The shocked children responded to her authoritative tone and started to do as she had said.

Caught by surprise, the circle of Night Snatchers was a bit slow to react.

One of the goons who had hauled Harry up to the altar saw the children escaping, and bellowed, "Get that blasted witch!" He pointed his wand at Emma and unleashed a stream of fire.

Emma lifted her sword and the fire was cut in two, rushing around her.

In the moment of surprise just before the Masked One brought the dagger down, Harry jerked his head free of the other's hold and lunged at the dark wizard, knocking the ritual dagger out of the other's hand and yanking at the hood the other wore.

Tearing it free, Harry looked upon the face of the leader of the Night Snatchers.

"Conor MacLaggen!" he snarled. "I knew it was you! That hyena laugh gave it away!"

MacLaggen, former Gryffindor, and once Harry's tormentor at school, growled at his former classmate. "So you figured it out, Snape! Big deal! That ain't gonna save you now that daddy's not here! Or your vampire uncle!"

Harry took a step back, and willed his chains to vanish. Then he smiled wolfishly at MacLaggen. "You always were an idiot, Conor. Even as a student, you were thick as a stump. Did you really think I'd be such an easy mark? I _let_ you capture me . . . so I could unmask you for what you are . . . a stinking yellow coward who sacrifices little children. Your Dark Lord is never coming back, MacLaggen! His spirit's imprisoned somewhere you'll never find it, and his reign of terror is finished—as is yours!"

Then he moved, like a snake striking, and brought the palm of his hand up and snapped Conor's head back with a quick blow to his chin.

Now the other dark wizards were over the shock of being betrayed by two of their own, they started to regroup.

Curses and dark incantations began to fly all over as they attacked Neal and Emma, who had thrown off their disguise spells and were now revealed for what they were—undercover Dark Hunters—members of the most tenacious and deadly team of law enforcement officials in the world.

Neal countered three dark curses, twirling his wand in a lazy motion that deflected them back on their owners, while he lunged at the dark wizard closest to him and jabbed him in the face with the Tiger Eyes of Death, a martial arts move that blinded and could kill an opponent. Neal pulled his blow at the last second, and the redhaired wizard collapsed screaming on the ground, incapacitated and unable to fight.

Then he lashed out at another, kicking a wand out of the bald wizard's hand and breaking a few fingers as well.

There came four flashes of blue light as the Auror team he'd contacted just before the fight began Apparated into view and began attacking the cabal of dark wizards.

Curses flew all over the clearing, were deflected, and new ones cast, all in the blink of an eye.

Emma defended her position, using her fae blade to block certain spells, then casting a few of her own to keep the dark wizards at bay and prevent them from harming the children, most of whom were through her Gate and being consoled and comforted by the Aurors back at headquarters.

The Masked One, no longer a figure of mystery, staggered from Harry's punch, one hand going to his mouth. "You bloody bastard!" he spat. "You broke my tooth!"

"Aww, too bad," sneered Harry. "I forgot, you won Most Charming Smile in Gryffindor, like that pretty pretender, Gilderoy Lockhart. Why don't you go and see a Healer?"

Conor shook his head. "Just wait, Snape! I'll be standing over your grave first!" He suddenly Apparated to the top of the hillock, and pointed his wand and chanted a string of syllables.

Suddenly, a whirling vortex opened and swirled with reddish light.

A fetid stink emerged, and then so did several shambling skeletal bodies, some armed with old rotting weapons, others with just teeth and bony claws.

The undead skeletal warriors streamed from the portal, moving at an astonishing rate, until they filled the small clearing.

"Neal!" Harry screamed. "Merlin, it's like _Dawn of the Dead_!" he yelled, having seen that movie on the telly when he lived with Dursleys. It had scared him to pieces when he was seven.

Now faced with the real thing, and not Hollywood zombies, Harry found himself no less scared, but unlike when he was seven, he could fight back against these skeletal warriors.

He lunged at one of the undead things, slamming it in the head with his fist, and the skeletal warrior's skull caved in and it crumpled to the ground. Harry went after another one, his training taking over as he slipped into the deadly fighting trance and became one with the wind and glided and danced with the clacking hissing skeletons, smashing ribs and arms and sending those he struck to a final death.

Neal looked up as Harry shouted, and saw the army of skeletons emerge from the portal.

"Aww, man! This damn idiot watches too much TV!" he groaned, then he pointed his wand at the advancing skeletal army and cut loose with a blast of concussive force that slammed into the skeletons, knocking them down like ninepins. "Emma! Heads up, sunshine! We got company!"

Emma whirled, shutting the Gate just as the last child went through. Her fae blade glinting in the starlight, she stabbed a skeleton as it tried to grab her and bite her throat out.

"Get off me, you bag of bones!" she yelled, and the undead creature screamed and writhed as her sword cut through the unnatural magic animating it and rendered it into dust. "Take that, clickety-clack! And next time stay dead where you belong!"

Seeing her husband in danger, she waded into the fight, stabbing and slashing with her magical blade, her teeth bared. The skeletons hissed and tried to attack her, but she was quick and her sword even quicker, and it brought a final death to those who attempted to face her.

Soon she had reached Neal's side. "Hey, Swanfire! These guys are really getting on my nerves. We need to close that damn portal."

"I know!" Neal panted, hitting another hissing monster in the sternum and making it crumble. "But we're too far from it. It's up on the hill," he pointed with one hand, which was cut and bleeding from hitting undead bone.

Emma looked . . . there was an army of skeletons between them and the necromancer summoning them through the portal. "Shit, Neal! We're going to have to retreat soon unless we close that damn Gate."

"Not just yet!" he cried, knocking the head off a skeleton that tried to claw him in two. "I think we need to call in the cavalry, Em."

"Yeah?" she queried, slicing another opponent in half. The skeleton crumbled to dust as she whirled to face another wickedly grinning vicious monster. "Think he'll hear you?"

"Sure he will." He touched his earring again, calling for help, contacting the one person he knew of who could close the portal and help them deal with this army.

The Auror team had Stunned and captured six of the Night Snatchers and had been trying to get to the Masked One before he opened the portal and summoned his skeletal army. But now they were in trouble, for they had no real experience fighting off undead, and were unprepared for the relentless drive in the warriors to kill and destroy anything living.

One of the Aurors was dragged down and killed before the other three realized just how dangerous the skeletal warriors were, and as the three Apparated to higher ground, what little there was of it, they realized they were overwhelmed. The skeletons emitted a kind of chilling cold as they moved, cold that was bitter and froze one to the bone, the cold of the grave, and the eerie light in their eyesockets was enough to give anyone pause and gazing too long at their sightless eyes turned a wizard into a gibbering wreck as fear took hold of them.

"Merlin's freaking arse!" cried one. "We need some major back up here!"

"I'm calling Shacklebolt!" panted another, shooting a Blasting Curse at a knot of skeletons trying to get to them. "Maybe he can call somebody to roast these nasty beasties! Like Professor Snape!" The Auror tossed a tiny winged globe into the air, sort of like a Snitch, which flew away in a blur of blue magic.

Meanwhile, Harry battled his way through the skeletal army, suffering numerous scratches and cuts from the warriors' teeth and clawed hands, but ignoring the stinging and burning hits he took, his trance state absorbing the damage and then pushing it away, for none of the blows the warriors landed were enough to incapacitate him. Instead he concentrated on getting enough room to Apparate over to where MacLaggen stood on the hillock, like some demented puppet master, summoning more skeletons through the portal.

Finally he'd cleared himself some breathing space, sending a warrior spinning into a knot of its fellows, where it shattered into white and gray dust.

Panting harshly, the Healer focused upon the area just before MacLaggen, and then concentrated.

He Apparated in a brief flash of light, just as a huge knot of skeletal warriors converged upon the spot he'd been in.

Escaping the deadly trap, he appeared right in front of MacLaggen. "Surprise, Conor!" he called, slamming him in the face with a quick right hook.

The Masked One staggered backwards, then shook his head and lunged at Harry, grabbing the slender wizard and knocking him to the ground.

As the two rolled upon the ground, trying to gain an advantage, Emma and Neal defended themselves frantically from an ever growing wave of undead.

Skeletons hissed, clacked, and bit at them, their undead bodies glowing with unnatural cold and a fetid miasma of fear that made the two Hunters choke.

"Neal, this is not good!" Emma cried, shattering another skeleton. "Where the hell is the cavalry when we need it?"

"I'm sure he's coming, sweetheart," her husband said, pointing his wand and surrounding them with a temporary shield charm.

As if his words were a kind of prophecy, two figures burst into view at the top of the hill.

One, a black-robed figure, began casting at the mob of skeletons, and soon a rain of deadly green hail pelted the undead, making them scream and back away from the hill.

The other figure was surrounded by a ghostly blue light, most of it coming from the staff in his hand, and he turned and pointed it at the portal and chanted something in the sharp-tongued Comanche language.

A beam of blue light shot out, and it seemed, for a moment, to be fighting with the reddish demonic glow coming from the portal.

But then the portal snapped shut, closing on a skeleton coming through, and the half of the undead body fell onto the ground, severed at the waist.

Severus grimaced and kicked it away, sending it bouncing and rolling down the hillside. He glanced about for Harry, for he was sure he had seen his son just before he'd engaged the skeletons, but now he couldn't find him. Shaking his head, he turned to his companion and said, "Shall we give them a hand, old friend?"

The other archmagus lowered his staff and said, "Naturally, my former apprentice. Let's go kick their ass. It's a good day to die, as my Cheyenne cousins would say. For _them_!"

He pointed his staff towards the sky and called out a rather long name in Comanche.

The sky split apart and a huge bird, black with brilliant purple and blue feathers on the tips of its wings, appeared. It landed on the ground before the two master wizards.

Severus stared at it, having heard of this creature, but he'd never seen it until now. "That's . . . that's a Thunderbird!"

"Uh huh. Quit jawing, Severus, and get on," said the shaman. "I can only control it so long."

"I hope you know what you're doing," the professor muttered and climbed atop the huge bird, sitting on its neck, just before the huge wings.

"Me too," said the shaman, who resembled his son, with his dark hair slightly streaked with gray and sparkling deep brown eyes. At Severus' look of horror, he chuckled and smirked, "Only kidding, my friend." Then he settled onto the Thunderbird's neck and gave it a kick. "_Keemah,_ great one!"

The Thunderbird took off, carrying the two archmages into the sky, then it banked and swooped at the army of undead, sending sheets of lighting and thunder from its talons.

The thunder and lightning slammed into the undead, sending skeletal warriors scattering into pieces, like matchsticks torn by an angry child, while Severus strafed some with fiery meteors and his shaman companion tossed handfuls of dirt down on them from a pouch at his waist.

"What the bloody hell is that?" the Potions Master asked.

"Grave dirt. Undead hate it. See?" he pointed to where the skeletons struck by it were shriveling up and turning to dust. "You know—dust to dust, ashes to ashes."

"Incredible. And you never bothered to inform me of this?" Severus demanded tartly.

"Well, you never asked," the other shrugged, and flashed his companion a sly smirk. Then he signaled the Thunderbird to bank left and go after the twenty or so skeletons menacing Emma and Neal.

Upon hearing the thunder and the lightning, Emma looked up and whooped in glee. "Whoo-hoo! The cavalry's here, Neal! Look at those undead posers run!"

"I told you, Em. And they can't run far enough or fast enough to escape Shaman Swanfire," Neal grinned, then turned and blew the head off the skeleton closest to him.

Harry and Conor rolled over and over, punching and kicking each other, like typical brawling schoolboys.

But Harry's training soon gave him an advantage, and he flipped the other wizard over his head, then sprang to his feet.

While MacLaggen was still whimpered and gasping on the ground, trying to get his wind back, Harry pointed a finger and picked up the necromancer, holding him in the air. "Game's over, MacLaggen. And guess what? You lose."

The Masked One hung limply, his handsome face streaked with blood, his nose slightly crooked. "Damn you, Snape! You and your bag of tricks and your scummy traitor friends and family."

"Oh, why don't you cry about it?" Harry snorted. "You ought to have learned something by now, MacLaggen. That when you mess with one Snape, you mess with all of them . . . and all the friends we've got as well. I hope you enjoy your time in Azkaban, you pitiful excuse for a Gryffindor. _And_ a follower of Moldy Voldy as well. He'd not have had you wipe his boots, you know."

MacLaggen writhed, trying without success to break Harry's hold over him. "Shut up! Just . . . shut up!" he raged impotently.

Harry clicked his tongue at him in reproof. "Lazy, Conor. Must have fallen asleep the day Lupin and Sarai taught wandless magic, eh? Or counterspells."

He lifted his other hand. "Too bad for you I didn't."

"_Stupefy!_" he cried, and a beam of red light shot out and slammed into the revolving necromancer, knocking him senseless.

Harry then cast another spell on him. "_Incarcerus_!" Heavy ropes exploded from his fingers and bound the stunned dark wizard tightly. "That ought to hold you," he said, grimacing. "I should have let Uncle Phil eat you that night, you worthless piece of trash. But at least now you'll get sent where you belong."

With the bound MacLaggen floating along behind him, Harry started to descend the hilltop, using short sharp bursts of power to clear a path and keep the snarling hungry undead at bay.

Neal looked up and saw Harry coming towards them and called, "Hey, join the party, Harry!"

Harry blasted a skeleton out of the way and came to stand next to the two Hunters. "I should have knocked out this troublemaking bastard when I had the chance, before he had time to summon these creatures."

"You did your best, kid," Emma said. "Besides, we've got back up now."

"The Aurors?" Harry guessed.

"Hell, no," she laughed. "Well, they're here, but take a look up there."

Harry did, and gasped when he saw the huge Thunderbird soaring overhead, carrying two passengers—a shaman with a glowing staff and a familiar black-robed figure. "Merlin! It's my dad!"

"Mine too," Neal said. "Now let's give these undead shmucks hell, kid."

And that was what they did, until the hilltop was filled with dust and bone and ash, which the sudden wind created in the Thunderbird's wake blew away.

Harry shielded his eyes from the sudden spate of dust as the Thunderbird landed on the ground a few feet from them. When he squinted and rubbed his glasses on his sleeve before putting them back on, he saw two tall men dismount from the Thunderbird and one of them patted the great creature and said something to it before it took off into the sky and then vanished.

Then they turned towards Emma, Neal, and Harry, though Harry had eyes only for the black-robed wizard striding towards him, a scowl of relief and irritation on his face. Only then did he recall something. He hadn't told his father exactly what he what he was going to do with regards to the kidnappers. _Aww, damn! Now I'm in for it._


	7. All In the Family

**7**

**All in the Family**

"Well, you two look a bit worse for wear," Shaman Swanfire remarked upon seeing Neal and Emma, both who sported various cuts and torn clothing from the skeletons that had managed to get in under their guard. Emma had a cut under one eye that was slowly leaking blood and Neal was favoring his left side.

"_Maruawe,_ Papa," Neal greeted him in Comanche, embracing his father carefully.

"That the only word you know, boy?" teased the elder sorcerer.

"You know it is," his son replied. "That and I can count to three."

"Why only three?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"Because he used to count to three in Comanche when I was little," Neal admitted. "When I was in trouble."

"And he was in trouble a lot," his father chuckled.

"Humph! Sounds like this one over here," Severus commented. "Harry Albus Snape, _why_ didn't you tell me you were going to become suicidal?"

"Umm . . . because I knew you'd be like this," Harry admitted. "What happened to hey Harry, are you all right, Dad?"

Severus inspected him briefly. "I already knew you were fine, since you're standing here and that jackass is floating," he jerked his thumb back at the comatose MacLaggen. He went and peered at the other wizard. "Merlin, what a waste of breath you are, MacLaggen. I'm ashamed you were my student."

"Yeah, he gives us all a bad name. He couldn't even act like a proper villain," Harry snorted.

"For which you ought to be very grateful, Harry Snape," Severus said, giving his son a distinct look of disapproval. "How many times must I tell you—you're not a bloody savior anymore?"

Shaman Swanfire was laughing. "My, Severus, does _that_ sound familiar!"

Severus turned and gave the elder wizard a slightly toned down Snape glare. "Just what the hell is so funny, Swanfire?"

"You are. Scolding your son for being just like you," the shaman chortled. "Or don't you remember me lecturing you on that very same thing all those years ago?"

"_What_?" Harry stared at his father and the old Comanche. "Uh, wait a minute. You two know each other?"

"You mean he never told you about his old mentor?" queried Shaman Swanfire.

"I don't really talk about my days as a spy to my children," Severus said, looking rather uncomfortable. "There are too many bad memories there, old friend."

"Once Dumbledore got hold of you, yes I can understand that," the older sorcerer said shrewdly. "But before that, Severus, was I really that bad that you wanted to forget me?"

"No, I never said that, Rumple," Severus disagreed, shaking his head rapidly.

"Rumple?" Harry repeated, puzzled.

"Short for Rumplestiltskin, my code name," explained the Comanche shaman.

"Back then, we all had code names as spies," Severus added. "We picked names of fairy tale characters."

"What was yours, Dad?" Harry asked, fascinated by this bit of his father's mysterious past.

"Tam Lin," answered Severus. "I'm sure you can guess why."

Harry nodded. Tam Lin was a human who had lived in Faerie and eventually the only human who had made a deal with the fae queen and freed himself, returning to the mortal world.

"My real name is Robert Swanfire," said the shaman, holding out his hand to shake.

Harry took it. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

Severus turned to Neal and Emma. "And you must be the Dark Hunters Katie told me about. Severus Snape, Potions Master. Pleased to meet you."

"And you also. Emma, Neal's wife," Emma said, and clasped his hand firmly.

"Likewise. Neal Swanfire," Neal said, shaking his hand.

"Also known as the reason my hair's gone gray," his father added.

"Papa, you exaggerate!" Neal protested. "Estrella's the reason your hair's gray."

His father snorted. "All right, boy. I'll give you that . . . but _you're_ the reason I was almost committed to an institution."

Harry smirked at the familiar lecture, until Severus said, "And you're lucky I'm not giving you detention for life for scaring the hell out of me, young man."

Harry blushed. "Dad! I'm twenty-four, not fourteen! Merlin!"

"And that matters how?" Severus growled.

Harry threw up his hands in disbelief. "I don't believe this!"

Neal shot him a commiserating look. "Believe it, kid. I'm thirty and he can still make me feel like I'm thirteen," he jerked his head at his father. "No matter how old you get, you're still his kid."

"Why don't we take this scumbag back to Auror headquarters and we can talk there?" Emma suggested.

The other Auror team had already gathered their dead and their prisoners and went back to headquarters.

"Sounds good to me," Neal said. "You need that cut on your face taken care of, Em."

"And you need those ribs looked at, hotshot," she returned.

"Lucky you've got a Healer for a friend," Harry said.

Emma looked at them questioningly. "Shall I open a Gate there, or are we Apparating?"

"Gate us," Neal replied.

"Hold it. If you could do that before, how come you didn't just . . . open a Gate whenever we wanted to go somewhere?" Harry asked.

"Because, kid, Gates can be traced," Emma answered. "And the first rule of a Hunter is never leave a trail that can be followed. Also, I can only open a Gate to a place I've been before, and only within a certain radius. So opening one from, say, England to America is out."

Emma spread her hands, and her blue eyes glowed.

A small ball that flickered with white and blue magic appeared in her palms, and then she tossed it at the ground before her. A portal opened to the Auror headquarters. "There! Let's go."

They all filed through it, though Emma, as Gate Warden, was last, so she could shut the portal behind her.

Once they had turned MacLaggen over to the authorities, they retired to the same private room they had occupied earlier. Neal gave Harry his wand back.

Harry mended Emma's face with a simple spell, then cast a general diagnostic on her and said, "You're all right, you just need some rest." Then he turned to Neal. "Let's see what you did to yourself."

"Me? Try the skeletons," Neal protested.

Harry ran his wand over the other wizard. "Hmm. They cracked a few ribs. But I can mend them with a spell. Or you can drink some Skele-Gro."

Neal shuddered. "Oh, no thanks! Had that when I was kid once after I broke my shoulder falling off a horse. Never again."

"A horse I told him not to ride," added Rumple gleefully.

"You've also strained a few muscles in your back," Harry reported.

"I figured as much," the Hunter sighed. "Go ahead, kid. Work your magic."

Harry withdrew a clear potion from his robe pocket. "Here. Drink that first. It's a pain reducer."

Neal took the vial and chugged it down. "Ugh! Hell, kid, when is one of you Healers going to invent a potion that doesn't taste like dirt?"

"Probably never," Harry said cheerfully. "Most healing herbs are bitter and they're in half the drafts we brew." Then he took out his wand and ran it gently along Neal's ribs.

The Hunter winced as the bones were mended in a trice.

Harry muttered another spell and the torn strained muscles were fixed as well. "There! Want a chocolate frog, Neal?"

"Very funny, kid," said his friend, lofting one ebony eyebrow. "But thanks. You're a good Healer."

"See, Dad, I really did learn something at university," Harry slanted an amused look at Severus.

"Thank Merlin something took," his father teased, giving his son a rare smile.

Harry seated himself at the table and clapped his hands. A house elf appeared and bowed to him. "You called Master Healer Snape?" it asked.

"I did, Smuckers," Harry said. "Would you mind getting us all something to drink and maybe a few sandwiches as well? All of a sudden I'm starving."

"At once, sir," said the odd looking little creature, with the huge pointed ears and large eyes, wearing a tea towel with the Auror logo on it. It popped out of the room.

Once Smuckers returned with a pot of tea and a pitcher of ale as well as a tray of ham, cheese, and lettuce sandwiches with mayo, Harry peered at his father and said, "So, Dad, you were . . . uh . . . Robert's apprentice once upon a time?"

"That he was, boy," answered the shaman. "He was only nineteen, hadn't even attended the Academy for Secret Agents, or what passed for one back then. And I was assigned to be his mentor. I'd been one of the US's top agents for a few years, this was before I was married, you see. I was over here as a liaison, much the same way Neal and Emma are right now. And you needed us bad, Harry. That miserable spider Voldemort was killing and torturing any wizard who didn't agree with him that he could get his hands on, and none of your British operatives could get close to him."

"So I made a deal with Dumbledore to become his undercover agent and join the Death Eaters," Severus continued. "But even though I was an accredited Potions Master and knew _kin-sa-dor_, I didn't know anything about being a spy. That's what Rumple here taught me. Everything I know about being a good agent I learned from him."

"He proved a very good apprentice," said Shaman Swanfire with a sly smirk. "As soon as I broke him of that habit of risking his neck on a whim."

Harry's eyes went wide. "_You_, Dad?"

Severus coughed. "Thanks ever so much, Rumple," he half-growled. Then he sighed. "Harry, you know what sort of childhood I had. And that kind of upbringing doesn't leave you with too high an opinion of yourself. I was used to looking at myself as expendable. There were only three people who ever truly cared what became of me back then. One was your mother, Lily. One was Sarai. The other is sitting next to me."

Shaman Swanfire nodded. "He's right, kid. It took me a long time to get him to see himself as a person worth saving . . . and that's one thing I could kick that great horse's ass Dumbledore for, letting that happen."

"I don't blame you," Harry said. "There's a lot I could kick him for too. Was this before you . . . uh . . . went undercover and faked your own death, Dad?"

"Yes. It was almost a year before that," Severus said. "Lily and I were still engaged then."

"And this is your Lily's son, right?" asked Robert.

"Yes. But I never knew that until much later," Severus said. "She thought I was dead because of the ruse I was forced to adopt, and then she married James Potter so she could give Harry a father. Only that didn't work out too well since they were both killed by Voldemort when Harry was still a baby."

"Yes, we heard about that story," Robert said gravely. "Only I didn't know that Lily Potter was your Lily, Severus."

"Not many people did," Severus said. "Strange, isn't it? That we should meet again after so many years, Rumple? And so do our children?"

"Not really, Severus. As I told you so many times before . . . there are no coincidences. All is as the Creator wills."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Papa! Not that old saying again!"

"Don't mock me, boy," scolded his father. "You're not too big to scrub out a cauldron."

Harry burst out laughing. "Merlin! Now I know where my dad gets it!"

"Great minds think alike," Severus smirked.

"Exactly," the shaman said, looking insufferably serene. "But I am glad we could see each other again, Severus. I've often wondered how you were doing all these years."

"I meant to write you, but you didn't leave me a forwarding address," the Potions Master replied.

"That's because I didn't really have a home then. I traveled wherever my job took me . . . until I met a Gypsy lass name Mirabelle. And she tamed the wild Comanche shaman. Well, as much as anyone could."

"And boy, did she have her work cut out for her," Neal smirked.

"Neal!" Emma scolded, smacking him on the arm.

"What? It's true," her husband objected. "She took one look at him and said, we were meant to be together, the Fates have decreed it, and it was done, as the Comanche say."

"Rather like you and your wife," his father pointed out.

"And the first time I met you I was so . . . umm . . . awed that I could barely speak to you," Emma laughed.

"I remember that," her father-in-law said.

"I also remember him saying that you were the only woman that could get me to shut up and you'd better marry me," Neal chuckled.

"It was true," Rumple said defensively. "You do jabber like a jackdaw sometimes, son."

"Like father, like son," Severus said slyly.

"At least he comes by it honestly," the shaman grinned. "And no one's ever gotten the better of a deal with me yet, Severus."

"Of course not. The Comanche invented deals," the Potions Master smirked. Then he cocked an eyebrow and said, "Your grandchildren must keep you young, old friend, because you don't look a day over forty-five."

"Do I? Well, I must admit that Sky Girl—that's Alyssa's Comanche name—keeps me on my toes, much like her father used to. But there are still a few Mysteries that I could teach you, Severus. Like Shaman's Sleep."

Neal almost choked on his ale. "Papa! You . . . I thought you couldn't teach that to anyone who wasn't a Comanche!"

"But he is one, Neal. I adopted him into the tribe long ago, to give him a family when he had none. White Eagle, meet your blood brother, Raven Heart," the shaman said, though he spoke the two names in the Comanche tongue.

"Dad! You never told us that!" Harry gasped.

"Well, I . . . never thought . . . I mean it was so long ago . . . I thought . . ." Severus stammered.

"You thought I'd forgotten about it, didn't you?" asked the shaman shrewdly.

"Yes, if you want the truth," Severus sighed. "There was so much turmoil after Voldemort was killed and I never talked to you again . . . never saw you . . . I thought it was just . . . a kind gesture . . ."

"A blood adoption is forever, Severus Snape," the shaman said solemnly. "So . . . welcome back, Raven Heart, my son." Then he abruptly hugged the other wizard.

To Harry's shock, Severus hugged him back.

"I never thanked you for what you did back then," Severus began awkwardly.

"And as I told you before, son, no thanks were ever necessary," the shaman said softly. "But if you want to assuage that lingering guilt complex, Sev, come and pay us a visit at Standing Rock this summer."

"Just me or would you like me to bring the family?" queried the Potions Master.

"Bring them all, of course! They can have fun learning the ways of the Comanche. Belle and my daughter Estrella would love to meet them and you," Robert said.

"If you're sure?" Severus said. "I wouldn't want to be a bother. Toria and Jace can be a handful sometimes . . ."

"Nonsense, Sev! You're family, and you're welcome in my house anytime."

"Then you'll be seeing us soon, Rumple. I just hope you have insurance."

The shaman laughed. "Severus, do you forget I have children too? Nothing yours can do would surprise me."

"Famous last words, Swanfire," said the Potions Master.

And so it was arranged that the Snape family would be taking a trip across the ocean in the summer, and reconnecting with their previously unknown Comanche family. By that time, Harry would be done with residency and married to Katie, and the trip could be like a honeymoon for them. Or at least that's what Katie said when Harry told her all about the meeting with Shaman Swanfire that night.

"And in a way, Harry, I'm not surprised. Your family is so unusual, this just adds to the legend," she told him. "And I'm proud to be a member of it." Then she kissed him breathless.

In _The Daily Prophet _the next morning was the following headline—**Kidnapping Mystery Solved by Harry Snape and Family! Children Safe and Sound and Those Responsible Behind Bars Forever.**

It was the kind of headline that Harry didn't mind reading, even if it did make him out to be a celebrity again, and force him to run away from reporters wanting exclusives for the next two months. After all, fame as well as magic, always came with a price.


End file.
